The serpent inside the phoenix
by wizardelfgirl
Summary: what if Harry Potter had ended up in Slytherin House? I think that says it all.


As everyone already knows, I owe none of the characters already created by J.K. Rowling. Any original character that appears in the story is mine, but if you want to use them, fine by me.

            Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, a Slytherin? That nice boy who had shared all his candy with him in the Hogwarts train, in Slytherin's house? Ron felt his mouth go so dry his tongue seemed stuck in his throat. He couldn't believe it, he _wouldn't_ believe it.

            It was the Sorting Ceremony, where new students at Hogwarts were sorted into the 4 houses, and it was Harry's turn. Ron saw the skinny, black-haired boy sit on the stool and put on the Sorting Hat. Although Harry's startingly green eyes were concealed inside the hat, Ron had seen the boy's face contort in a fearful expression, as though the hat had told him something terrible. But then, as fast as it had appeared, the fear in Harry's face had melted away and turned into a sneering smile. And it was at that precise moment that the Sorting Hat's voice had boomed into the Great Hall:

            "SLYTHERIN!"

            Everyone, even the teachers, stared blankly at the Hat. That is, everyone except the Slytherins, who exploded in shouts of joy and applause, and some of the nastier students yelled insults to the other Houses. Feeling sick, Ron turned away from the jeering voices and focused on Harry, who had taken off the hat. He gasped. Instead of the warm look they had borne during the trip to Hogwarts, Harry's eyes had become so cold Ron felt his own heart freeze just at the sight of them. His whole body went numb as he saw the boy who had destroyed the Dark Lord walk with grim resolve to the Slytherin table and find a seat, of all people, beside Draco Malfoy.

            _Surely this is a mistake_, thought Ron, remembering how Harry had faced Malfoy at the train and denied him the hand of friendship. _Any minute now Harry will hit Malfoy or something and he'll get away from that table and demand the headmaster that he get another chance to use the Sorting Hat_. Ron waited almost impatiently for this to happen. But it didn't. Instead, the red-headed, freckle-faced boy saw with open mouth how Malfoy, apparently ready to forget the incident on the train, extended once more his hand to Harry, who shook it heartily. Then the two boys started chatting as old friends, oblivious to the astonished look from the boy who stubbornly refused to believe what he was seeing.

            "For the last time, RON WEASLEY!"

            Ron started at the sound of his name and turned around to face Professor McGonagall, who was looking at him with a stern expression on her face.

            "Well, what are you waiting, boy? Come here!"

            Ron caught a glimpse of mocking faces at the Slytherin table just before the hat dropped over his eyes. Then everything went dark and quiet.

            "Well, well, well," said a small voice in his ear. "Another Weasley. And a talented one, even if you don't believe it yourself. A little stubborn, and afraid you won't be able to prove your worth. But there's courage in you, and that's all that matters. What you need is some encouragement, and I know exactly where you will get it... GRYFFINDOR!"

            This the hat actually shouted to the hall, and amid gales of applause from the Gryffindor table Ron took a seat and saw the last student being sorted.

            When the ceremony finally ended, the feast began. The four tables were suddenly laden with all kinds of food. Everyone filled their dishes with a bit of everything and started eating while talking merrily about what they had done during the vacations and wondering what was in store for them this year. Everyone was enjoying themselves so much, even when the feast had ended and the tables had been magically cleared, that they smiled all through Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's welcoming speech and rose contentedly to head to their respective houses.

            Ron, the only one who had kept quiet during the feast, barely eating even though he was ravenously hungry, obediently followed the prefect, his brother Percy, along with the rest of the first years across the Great Hall and out into the entrance hall, where a wide staircase led to the classrooms and houses. He was just starting to feel slightly better, with the fresh air from the open door clearing his thoughts and the prospect of a good night's sleep, when the attack, the first of many, came on suddenly.

            Ron didn't know what exactly happened, he just felt himself falling on the hard stone and his chin slamming painfully on the first step of the staircase.

            "Oops, careful Weasley, you don't want to break the stair with that thick skull of yours, otherwise you might be made to pay it."

            Kneeling where he had fallen, Ron turned around and looked up to see Harry Potter staring at him with a wide grin. The taste of his own blood sickened Ron, and he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

            "You made me trip," was all he could say.

            "Don't blame me for your stupidity, Weasley," Harry answered, smiling still. "If you can't see where you are going I suggest you use your wand as a walking stick."

            "Good idea," said a voice from behind. A moment later, Draco Malfoy appeared beside Harry, with Crabbe, Goyle and a third boy flanking him like bodyguards. "But I'm afraid if he falls again and breaks his wand his family will have to starve for a month to buy him another one."

            Ron's ears went pink. By this time a small circle of students had formed around the scene and everyone had heard Malfoy's remark. While most of the students, particularly Gryffindor students, said nothing, all the Slytherins laughed heartily, adding in to Ron's humiliation. The young Weasley, not knowing what to do, only stood up with his head bent low, trying to hide the tears that threatened to roll down his cheeks.

            "What is going on?"

            Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, had arrived at the scene. The rest of the students quickly scattered away, leaving Harry, Draco and Ron alone.

            "We were only helping our friend to get up, professor," Harry answered in the sweetest voice he could muster. "He tripped and fell to the floor, and I'm afraid he hurt himself."

            Professor McGonagall eyed Harry suspiciously before she said, "Very well. Run along, you two, and Weasley, I'll take you to the hospital wing."

            "No, professor, I'm okay, it was just—"

            "I said come with me, no arguing, please."

            Ron had no choice but to follow Professor McGonagall through a narrow entrance that supposedly led to the hospital wing. Just before he went through the entrance behind Professor McGonagall, Ron turned around. Harry and Draco were making faces at him, mocking him. They looked so oddly alike together, and yet so different.

            Harry Potter in Slytherin House. Ron felt so sickened at the thought, he willingly followed the Deputy Headmistress to the hospital wing, as he knew he would throw up any minute.

Well, that's how this story starts. I really hope you like it. It will not be a long story, but I hope you'll find it interesting. I am really sorry if I don't update very often, but I have a huge amount of work and unfortunately I barely have time to attend to my stories, though I have a few others in progress that I hope to submit shortly, besides some updates on other stories already available for reading.

See you later!


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